


comment faire des papas

by a_fanfic_in_a_hedge



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Found Family, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-10-28 16:26:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17790788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_fanfic_in_a_hedge/pseuds/a_fanfic_in_a_hedge
Summary: Things fall apart, the centre cannot hold and Rigour has been loosed upon the world. It's the end of the world as we know it, and Orth has:1) a shitty van full of supplies2) four teenagers bent on stopping the apocalypse3) no plan whatsoever(Or: four kids and their new dad on a road trip to save the world)





	1. Chapter 1

The first thing Orth noticed as he came to was that the carpet beneath his face was dirty. _I’ll have to vacuum_ , he thought. The second thing he noticed was that he was lying on the floor of the entrance to his apartment, still dressed in his work clothes. The third thing he noticed was the orange light drifting through the slatted blinds that covered the big window in his living room. It wasn’t morning light. It wasn’t any kind of natural light.

Orth exhaled heavily and pressed his palms flat to the carpet. His intention was to push himself up, but halfway up his head began to spin, and he dropped back down to his elbows. _Slowly, then_ , he thought. He rolled onto his back and stared at the off-white ceiling until it stayed in one place, and then slowly, slowly, he sat up. His mouth was gummy, and his tongue felt coated and unpleasant, as though he had eaten something acidic and chemically detached the top layer of skin. He coughed.

“What the fuck…” he muttered to himself. His voice was raspy and dry. _Dehydrated, probably,_ he thought, forcing his feet beneath him and standing up. His head spun again, and he had to lean against the wall until the hallway was the right side up. His ears were ringing. He pressed his hands to the sides of his head until it subsided.

His bones were all dull ache, and his feet, still in his shoes, felt heavy as he dragged himself across the living room to the kitchen sink. The water smelled _off_ somehow, metallic and acrid, but he was too thirsty to care. He drank one glass without stopping to breathe, soaking the front of his shirt in the process. The second one he drank slower, his nose wrinkling at the taste. His head hadn’t _stopped_ spinning, per se, but it was easier to focus now. He filled a third glass and tried to remember what had happened last night.

It was patchy, but not blackout-drunk patchy. He hadn’t been blackout-drunk since college, but he remembered what it felt like. This was different, more like an overload of data that had left some sections unfilled due to its sheer immensity. It was how he imagined his computer at work might feel when it crashed. Then it hit him.

“Oh shit. Work.” He’d been fired, what, twelve hours ago? Twenty-four? He reached into his pocket to check his phone. It wasn’t there. “Oh shit _._ ” The ringing was back in his ears. He pressed against his left temple and scanned the apartment floor. The phone didn’t seem to be anywhere. Orth sighed. “Of fucking course _._ Jesus Christ.” He probably just couldn’t see it in the semi-dark. Raising the blinds would reveal it, he was sure. He crossed the living room to the cord, and he only had to lean on the couch once, which seemed like a significant improvement. He tugged the blinds up, shutting his eyes as unnatural orange light flooded the room.

The light made the streets below look blackened and burnt. Cars were stopped at odd angles, as though they had been abandoned halfway through a drive. Shattered glass glinted beneath bare storefronts, looking for all the world like crystalline sand. Smoke rose at intermittent points across the cityscape, although it was difficult to tell where exactly those points were. The wash of orange erased the depth of the streets, making everything look flat and indistinct. Orth squinted at the sky. It was overcast, the grey of the clouds dirtied with orange as well. The light wasn’t sunlight, he was certain now. Where was it coming from? It was difficult to tell. The wash of light made his head ache. He pressed a hand against the window and looked harder. His eyes were drawn across the skyline. The light didn’t seem brighter anywhere, but the orange colour, and the erasure…those grew more intense the closer he looked to the building where he w – where he used to work. He squinted harder. He could almost make it out…

Suddenly he was deafened. The ringing in his ears was back, loud enough he could taste it. The glass of water in his other hand dropped to the floor, shattering on impact, as he stumbled back from the window. He slammed his hands over his ears. He could swear he felt something wet pouring into them. He felt himself screaming, but he couldn’t hear it over the _ringing, the ringing, the ringing._ He toppled backwards, landing hard and curling in on himself. He screwed his eyes shut, unable to think beyond _pain_ and _loud_ and _please._

Slowly, as slowly as its onset had been sudden, the ringing faded. Orth opened his eyes and looked at his hands. They were dry. He scrambled to his feet, ignoring how off-balance he felt. Without looking, his back to the window, he felt for the cord. Once he found it, he dropped the blinds, filling the apartment again with semi-darkness. His breathing was heavy. His chest hurt. He sat, back still against the window, spilled water soaking into his pants.

 _Work,_ he thought. _It’s coming from work. That means…_

He heard a buzzing and instinctively clapped his hands to his ears. It took him a moment to realize that it wasn’t inside his head. His phone was lying where he had fallen earlier. It must have been in his chest pocket, he realized. Of _fucking_ course it had been there.

He dragged himself across the floor to his phone, not quite trusting his legs to carry him anymore. Its screen was cracked, discolouring the lockscreen image of him, Tea and Jace in their dress uniforms, taken years ago. **You have 1 new voicemail** , the display read. Orth opened the lockscreen, turned on the speakerphone, and pressed play.

 _“Message from N Greaves,”_ the machine said.

“Natalya?” Orth frowned.

As if in response, Natalya’s voice emitted from the speaker. “ _Orth. It’s me. Something’s happened, something bad. The Stiegers, they wanted us to push the project faster, open the door wider. And – ah! – we did.”_ She was clearly in some sort of pain. _“We should have listened to the warnings. Hell, I should have listened to you. But it’s too late. It came through._ Rigour _came through. And I don’t – ah! – I don’t know how long I can hold it back. I can feel it forcing its way into my brain. You need to get out of the city. There’s got to be some way to stop it. Please. Orth, you can – ah! – I can’t...you have to go, you have to go before it gets you, before it gets you, before it’s here it’s here it’s here it’s–”_ The message cut off.

Orth sat, unable to move.

“ _Press 1 to replay this message,”_ said the answering machine. “ _Press 2 to archive this message. Press 7 to delete this message. Press–”_ Orth cut the machine off, pressing 2. _“Your message has been saved. You are at the main menu. You have no new messages. Press 2 to play archived messages. Press–”_ Orth hung up, and the room was swamped with silence.

Rigour. They’d let Rigour out. From the very beginning of the Kingdom Project, they’d been warned. Keep the door small, lest Rigour escape. Limit the number of Divines brought through, lest Rigour make it through. Careful who you bring into the Project, lest Rigour worm its way into their brain. Careful how you think, lest Rigour sink its claws into _you._ And despite all that, all the warnings and the care, they’d brought it over anyway.

Rigour.

The part of Orth’s brain that wasn’t overwhelmed by shock was overwhelmed by terror. He felt his heart racing, attuned to a fear that his mind had not yet fully realized. He tried to slow his breathing and his heart along with it. He looked down to the phone he held. As he did, he saw his hands start to shake.

Rigour.

In the city. In a city of unprepared, unwarned millions, all of their minds just waiting, open to its influence.

_Rigour._

“Fuck.”

He couldn’t stay here. Not in his apartment, not in the building, not in the city. There was no way of knowing how far Rigour’s influence extended, but there had to be a limit. If he got outside of it, maybe there was some way –

The phone in his hands buzzed, snapping him out of his thoughts. The screen was lit up by an incoming call. He didn’t read the caller ID before answering. “Hello?”

 _“Orth,”_ said the distorted voice of Addax Dawn, “ _Something’s wrong with Jace and I didn’t know who else to call, but –”_

“It’s Rigour,” he interrupted. “It’s broken through.”

There was silence on the other end. Then, “ _What. How? Fuck.”_

“I don’t, I don’t know, I was…” he swallowed, “I was fired? And I remember leaving, and then I woke up on my carpet, but things here are _bad._ ”

_“Have you heard from Nat?”_

“Yeah, uh,” Orth cleared his throat. Her last, desperate message rang in his mind and stuck in his throat. “I, uh, I don’t think she made it out.”

Addax fell silent again. “ _Shit.”_

“Yeah.”

 _“Shit, shit, SHIT!”_ Static clouded Addax’s voice as its volume shot up.

“Addax?”

 _“I need help, Orth. Jace won’t wake up and I don’t know what to do.”_ The notes of panic in Addax’s voice rose to the surface. _“He’s just lying there.”_

“Okay, hold on,” Orth said. “You two are still out in that cabin of yours?”

_“Yeah, I know it’s far, but –”_

“I’m on my way,” he said. “It’ll take some time, but I’ll be there.”

 _“Okay,”_ said Addax. “ _Okay, I’ll –”_ the call cut off suddenly as Orth’s phone made a cracking sound, as though it had been stepped on. He dropped it, startled by the sound. The damage to the screen had spread, but that was not nearly as upsetting as the bloom of orange light that bled across his younger face from where the cracks had formed. It spread, sickly and hot-looking. Orth swore again.

Rigour, apparently, was not a lover of outside communication.

He forced himself to his feet. If he was going to leave the city, he needed supplies. He stumbled to his bedroom, grabbing his laundry basket on the way. He tossed it on his bed and began throwing whatever clothing he could find into it. He thought for a moment before grabbing a blanket and layering it over the clothes. No telling what the weather might be, after all. Basket half full, he went into the bathroom with a canvas bag he’d found in the closet and filled it with toiletries before tossing it in as well. He lugged the bin to the kitchen and filled the rest of it with cans of food and dried pasta. He emptied his medicine cabinet into the canvas bag before tying the handles together, so nothing would fall out. He filled a water bottle and threw it on top. As an afterthought, he grabbed his laptop bag and the charger for his phone, before picking up the offending item and shoving it in a pocket. _Just in case I need it,_ he thought.

His coat was lying on the floor by the door, inside out. He threw it over the basket and pushed the door open with a foot. The hallway was empty and awash with the orange light of Rigour. It pooled below the windows and spread slowly over the carpeted floor. He was careful not to look too deeply into it as he exited his apartment, pulling the door shut behind him. It closed with a snap, the sound amplified by the emptiness of the building. He didn’t bother locking it. There was nothing of value left behind.

He took the stairs down to the parkade. He didn’t trust the elevator. As he descended, he took stock of what he did and didn’t have. It was an old trick for calming anxiety that he’d learned back when he still went to therapy. He didn’t have:

  * A working phone
  * A way of contacting anyone
  * A plan more solid than ‘get out of town’



He had:

  * Twenty-odd cans of food
  * Something warm in case it was cold
  * His shitty van



It wasn’t much. But it was better than nothing.

The door at the bottom of the stairs was open when he reached it, but he couldn’t see anyone in the parkade. The sound of his shoes against the concrete was almost uncomfortably loud. He walked quickly to where he usually parked the van. Relief flooded his body when he saw that it was there. Finally, something was going right.

That feeling of relief was replaced almost immediately by one of consternation as his eyes landed on the lanky teenager standing by the driver’s window, crowbar raised above their head, frozen and staring at him.

Orth blinked once, then twice. “What.”


	2. Chapter 2

 “What,” said Orth again. The kid said nothing. They looked about sixteen, tall and surprisingly broad-shouldered for their apparent age. They were wearing what looked like an oversized police jacket and a baseball cap that read _Automated Dynamics_ in curlicue font.  “Are you…are you trying to steal my car?”

The kid’s eyes darted from Orth to the car and back, and then up to the crowbar in their hands. “Um. No.”

Orth sighed. “You’re clearly about to steal my car.”

“You can’t prove anything.” The crowbar in their hands inched slowly upward.

“N–” Orth interrupted himself, shaking his head. “I don’t – you’re about to break my window!”

“Don’t worry about it.” They pulled their arms back, raising the crowbar higher still.

“I–wait!” Orth threw out a hand. The kid looked at him. “Please, this day has been terrible ever since I woke up, just let me have this. I need to get out of the city.”

The kid shrugged. “Me too.”

“Okay, okay,” Orth said, “Okay, how about this? I’ll give you a ride out of town, okay? Anywhere you need to go, I can drop you off or something. I just need you to not _break_ my _car._ ”

The kid lowered the crowbar slowly, narrowing their eyes. “I do not think I should trust you.”

“That’s fine, don’t trust me, just _don’t break my car_ ,” said Orth. “Look, I have no idea what’s going to happen here, but it’s not going to be good, and we need to go. So, if you just step away from the car, I can let you in and we can get out of here. Okay?”

They studied him. For someone so young, they were surprisingly unreadable. Slowly, the crowbar lowered. They nodded. “Okay.”

Orth nodded back. “Okay. I’m gonna put this –” he hefted the laundry bin of supplies “– in the trunk, and then I’ll let you in.” The kid stepped back, folding their arms as they did and resting their crowbar on top. Orth reached down and fumbled in his pants pocket for his keys, balancing the bin as he did. He pressed the button to unlock the van, triggering a _beep_ and a flicking of lights. The kid started as they flashed on and off, as if they hadn’t been expecting it. Orth frowned. “You alright?”

The kid tightened their arms around themselves. “I am fine. Put your things away.”

Orth shuffled over to the trunk, keeping the bin as balanced as he could. As he bent his knees and reached down to pop the latch and open the trunk, it tipped, and two cans hit the ground with a clatter. He froze, then sighed. “Do you mind?”

The kid stalked over, their movements stiff, as though their muscles had seized while they stood watching him. Orth settled his bin in the now open trunk, next to the pair of hiking boots he’d worn the last time he’d been up at Jace and Addax’s cabin. He’d forgotten they were in there. They were still crusted in months-old mud.

“Excuse me,” said the kid. Orth jumped. They were standing right behind him, holding the cans that had fallen. They reached past him and balanced the cans on top of the bin. They didn’t put down their crowbar. Instead, they watched Orth as he closed the trunk. Then they held out their hand. “I would like to drive.”

“Absolutely not,” said Orth. He turned and walked to the driver’s side door.

The kid’s level expression rearranged into a frown. “I think I should be the one driving.”

“Yeah, no.” Orth opened the door. He pointed over the van. “That’s your door.”

The kid marched over to where he pointed. “They are both my doors. I have stolen this car.” They opened the door. “There is a cardboard box on the seat.”

“Oh, yeah,” said Orth. “You can just toss that in the back. And you have _not_ stolen this car, it’s my car.” He ducked his head and sat, pulling his seatbelt across and clipping it in.

The kid picked up the box and folded themselves in half to fit in the car. Their knees bumped up against the dash awkwardly. They set the box on their lap. “I am in the car, about to leave the city. This was my goal. The car did not originally belong to me, but it is now serving my purpose. Therefore, I have stolen the car, and it is mine now, and I should drive it.”

“That’s,” Orth pressed his lips together, “That’s not how that works.” He turned the key, sending the engine to sputtering life. He backed the car out of its spot and turned towards the exit.

“I think it is,” said the kid.

Orth sighed and pressed his foot to the pedal. “No, it isn’t.”

“Agree to disagree. I would like to drive.”

***

Orange light coated the car as it drove through the empty streets of the city. It was strangely quiet, the only sound the rumbling of the engine. The kid had stopped arguing for their ownership of the car, and now they stared out the window, quietly. Orth found himself looking back and forth between them and the road. He cleared his throat. “So, um, I’m Orth. Orth Godlove.”

The kid said nothing. Their face, reflected in the window, gave nothing away.

Orth cleared his throat again. “Uh, what’s your name?”

“I haven’t got one,” said the kid.

“Uh,” said Orth, “Okay? Do you have anything that people call you?”

“No.”

Orth exhaled. “Well. Okay. What can I call you, then?”

The kid shrugged. Their eyes flicked up to the reflection of their hat. “Call me that.”

“Automated Dynamics?”

They wrinkled their nose. “No, I don’t like how that sounds. You can call me AuDy, I think.”

“AuDy. Okay then.” Orth tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, then took a left. Driving through the orange light was like driving through heavy fog. It made distances difficult to judge. He was fairly sure they were on the main highway out of town. He knew it pretty well, but he slowed down anyway. “So, AuDy, where do you need to go?”

AuDy turned towards Orth, opened their mouth, and then closed it. “I do not know, Orth Godlove.”

“You don’t know?”

“No.” They sank down in their chair slightly, shoving their legs up into an even more awkward position. The cardboard box they had been holding teetered on their knees. “My initial plan was simply to steal this car and get out of the city. I have not yet come up with step two.”

Orth took one hand off the wheel to rub at his temple. “Right, okay, well, I’m headed out of the city to that big forest over near Kesh. It’s a few days’ drive, but there are a couple towns on the way. I can drop you off wherever you like, okay?”

AuDy nodded, picking at the edge of the box. “I am sure that will prove sufficient.” They reached into the box and pulled out a desk toy. It was a little squishy foam cactus in a little squishy foam pot, printed with the words “Don’t Be A Prick.” They rotated it slowly, studying it. “I do not understand why these things are together in this box or why it is in my car.”

“Not your car,” said Orth, almost reflexively now. “That’s –” he sighed again, “that’s what used to be in my desk, back when I still had a job. I just threw it all in there when I got fired yesterday. At least, I think it was yesterday. I’m still a little fuzzy on what time it is.”

“Why were you fired?” AuDy slowly opened and closed their hand, squeezing the cactus. They frowned as it slowly decompressed.

“That’s a pretty long story.” It was getting harder to see in Rigour’s hazy landscape. Orth flicked on his high beams. He figured that anyone else on the road would be understanding.

“You said it was a few days’ drive. We have time.”

“I meant –” Orth cut himself off. “Okay, you really wanna know?”

“Yes.”

“Right, okay. Short version, the people I worked for were into some bad shit, or at least that’s what it looked like. I noticed some discrepancies in the paperwork, but when I brought it to their attention, they fired me. And now we’re here.” He grimaced. “Guess I was right.”

“That is not a very satisfying answer.” AuDy squeezed the cactus harder. They looked disappointed when it started to fill out again. “And I do not understand how your company doing ‘bad shit’ caused our current predicament.”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, kid.”

“Do not underestimate me.”

“Does the word ‘Divines’ mean anything to you?”

The kid froze. “No,” they said slowly, “I do not believe so.”

“Well, it should.” Orth flexed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Divines are the reason we’re in this mess. Back when I was a pilot, about ten years ago, I was recruited for this special project. We called it the Kingdom Inititave. See, there was this scientist, Maryland September, and she claimed she’d found a door to another dimension. She also claimed she’d made contact with the beings living there. She called them Divines. Said they wanted a peaceful partnership with us. There was just one problem: Divines are conceptual beings. Ideas. The notion of things instead of the things themselves. They couldn’t physically exist in our world, and we couldn’t exist in theirs. So, she was stuck. Until she realized that all an idea needs is a willing mind to carry it.

“They called us Candidates. Well, I say _us_ , most of us were never up for actual selection. You had to have a compatible Divine, one that wouldn’t burn your mind out. Of all the people they brought in, I think maybe only five or six actually picked up a Divine. I had a friend who was chosen, and it changed him. It changed all of them.”

AuDy frowned. “How so?”

“A lot of ways. Physically, mentally…it was like talking to two people. For most of them, at least.” Orth cleared his throat. “It was a huge success, at least at first. But then, something went wrong. We started getting these strange signals from beyond the door. They looked like they were coming from a _massive_ Divine, the biggest any of us had ever seen. The Divines called it Rigour. They said if we didn’t stop the project and close the door, it would get through. We halted progress on September’s orders. And the brass –”

“Didn’t like it.” AuDy twisted one of the foam spikes on the cactus.

“No, they did not,” said Orth. “Next thing you know, September’s been fired, everyone's getting court-martialled, and the whole project is handed over to a weapons manufacturer. Almost everyone involved walked out then, if they hadn't been kicked out already.”

“And you?”

Orth sighed. “And I didn’t. They kept me around, for some reason. I don’t know why they didn’t just get rid of me. I was on a desk job by the end, managing _financing_ , of all things. And then I started noticing holes in the numbers, funding in places it shouldn’t have been, places that were shut down years ago. Next thing I know, I’m fired, and then I wake up in my own doorway to an orange nightmare.”

The cactus, whose spike had been twisted tight, spun around in AuDy’s hand as they released one side of it. “What does Rigour do to people?”

“I have no idea.” Orth laughed bitterly. “You know, I shouldn’t be telling you any of this. These are military secrets. I could get in real trouble.”

“You will not.”

“Yeah, okay. Sure.”

AuDy was quiet for a moment. “You have told me your secret. I will tell you mine. Then we will be even.”

Orth snorted. “I don’t know what kind of secrets you have, kid, but –”

“Neither do I,” AuDy interrupted him. “Orth Godlove, I do not have any memories earlier than today. I woke up in a storefront with the front window smashed out. I found this hat and then I felt afraid, so I went to find a way to get out of the city. I do not know how I know what cars are. The light makes me dizzy and I do not like it. Because of what you have told me, I have come to believe that Rigour has something to do with this. You know something about Rigour. I will stay with you until I know more.” They dropped the cactus into the box for emphasis.

“Uh,” said Orth. “Okay.” He turned his eyes back to the road, although the sound of AuDy rummaging in the box tugged at his focus. The high beams cut through the haze of orange, but every inch of territory they claimed was battered at the edges by a heavier light. It prowled along the edges of the beams, a living, burning fog. The thought of stepping out into it made Orth shudder. The very idea was corrosive. It made his skin itch.

“Are these the people you talked about?” Orth’s eyes flicked over to AuDy. They held out a black picture frame. In it was a photo that had sat on his desk for ten years. He didn’t have to look at it to remember the image of them all on the first day of the Kingdom Initiative. _God, we were so young._

“Yeah, uh, that’s them.” He took one hand off the wheel to point. “That’s Tea and Jace on, then there’s me. Then there’s Addax Dawn, and then Maryland. That’s Natalya Greaves, and then all the way on the left is Sokrates Nikon Artemisios. They’re Apostolosian, hence the name. They’re out in Slighter now, doing some kind of research, they –”

“Who is that?” AuDy tapped the man in the sharp suit standing next to Maryland.

“Oh, uh, that’s,” Orth swallowed, “That’s Ibex.”

“You do not like them?” AuDy asked.

“It’s, uh, it’s complicated.”

AuDy looked like they were about to say something, but then they froze. They turned slowly, and their gaze made a steady sweep of the van. They looked back at Orth.  “Do you hear that?”

Orth did. It was a buzzing noise, and it pervaded the entire van. “I do.”

“Do you think it could be Rigour?”

“I don’t know, maybe? That wasn’t what it sounded like last time…” Orth trailed off as the buzzing stopped. He and AuDy exchanged a look, relaxing at the same time. The van was silent for a beat. Two beats. And then, the buzzing started again.

“I am concerned,” said AuDy.

“Me too,” said Orth, as he pulled the van to the side of the road. The buzzing stopped, and then started again. Orth frowned. It had a strange, rhythmic pattern.

“Do you know what it is?” AuDy held the box in their lap tightly.

“I don’t know,” Orth said. “It might be –” he stopped. With the van silent and still, it occurred to him that his pocket was still moving. He dropped a hand and felt it. It vibrated along with the buzzing sound. “Oh.” He pulled out his phone just as it stopped ringing. The screen was still cracked, and the orange light still seeped through. There was a notification on the lockscreen. It read:

**Missed Calls: Sokrates (3)**

The phone began to vibrate again. Orth answered. “Hello?”

 _“And finally, he picks up the phone,”_ said Sokrates Nikon Artemisios. _“I called you like, a million times, I thought you were dead.”_

“Not dead,” said Orth. “Just busy. Things are bad here.”

 _“I know.”_ Their voice turned uncharacteristically somber. _“It’s true, isn’t it? Rigour’s out.”_

“Yeah,” said Orth, “It’s true.”

_“We’re fucked, then. There’s some kind of catastrophic energy signal going out, it’s fucking with all our equipment. You’re the first person anywhere near Rigour that I’ve been able to make any contact with. It’s like it’s leaking out of our communications network.”_

“Yeah, it seems to do that,” said Orth. “I don’t know how long this connection’s going to last, so if you have something to say, say it now. I’m on my way out of Centralia and I don’t intend to be back anytime soon.”

 _“Glad I caught you, then, cause I need you to do me a massive favour,”_ said Sokrates. _“I need you to pick up my kid sibling at their school. Please?”_

**Author's Note:**

> And so it begins! I've been sitting on this au for about two thirds of a year now, and I'm finally in a place where I feel like I can write it. I can make no promises about update schedules, for reasons of school and life, but I will try to be prompt with the next one. Thank you for reading, and please let me know what you think!


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